No amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity

No amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity

Today I finished To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, which was long and rambling and kind of how I think my blog posts and the inside of my head probably look to other people, but I liked it nonetheless and I'm glad I finished it.  One of the main themes was about how perceptions change with distance, how things look different from far away, how the passage of time changes things.  But I don't think necessarily that the passage of time makes the past look better.  I almost picture it like an upside-down parabola, for which there is probably a proper term but I'm not a math person, and at the top you reach this place where the past looks so absolutely horrible, even worse than it did when you were experiencing it.  But then you just have to wait a little longer and get over the hill, and then things start to look okay again, and you start to hate people less, and you start to think that maybe you can, and maybe you should, move on from this. 

But right now I feel like I'm stuck at the top of the parabola, and last year isn't going to start looking better until I get further away from it.  And I guess, physically, too.  Maybe that's why I want to go so far away.